Sleep to Dream
by cleverpunhere
Summary: The entirety of a person, after they've died, when everything has been stripped clean and nothing remains, is bones.  Bones, she realizes, is a very telling nickname. Post DitP.


**A/N:** this story picks up immediately where DitP leaves off, exploring what might happen in the three days it takes for Brennan's world to turn "right side up again".

**B&B**

"_I got the signal, Booth. I don't want to have any regrets."_  
"_Um, I'm with someone, Bones. And, uh, Hannah? She's not a consolation prize. I love her."_

Her chin falls to her chest, utterly defeated. The tears staining her cheeks, marring her porcelain skin, and she finds herself crying for the life he had once offered her, and the life he now denied her.

"_You know, the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but those are the facts."_

He's using logic against her, the only weapon she had ever possessed to ward off the evil that threatened her since youth. She finds herself bare before him, stripped naked, every defense she has ever known carefully deconstructed over seven years of friendship. And then he's offering to find someone, someone else, to be with her, as if there might be someone else in the universe with whom she would share a staticky message. She finds her only comfort in promising that she will be fine. _Alone._

She retreats to her lab, finding homogeneity in the cold steel implements. She finds herself in Limbo, in more ways than one, and she falls into the only cycle she's never known to falter- the life cycle. She knows it, she understands it, and as she pieces together what once was a healthy, happy, human, she marvels at all that is left.

The entirety of a person, after they've died, when everything has been stripped clean and nothing remains, is bones. Bones, she realizes, is a very telling nickname.

She stares at the sternum in her hands. Reveling in it's strength and it's purpose, designed to protect the body's life defining organ from heart crushing damage. She finds peace in knowing that the searing ache in her chest will never manifest itself onto her bones. That when her life ends, and her bones find themselves in the hands of her peers, no one will ever know the irrevocable injury she has suffered. They will find occupational markers, they'll catalog breaks and fractures consistent with adolescent abuse, but she'll never tell a soul because what's between them is theirs, and outside of him, there isn't a soul to tell.

She curls into a ball on her office couch, not quite ready to spend another night alone in a bed fit for a _partner_. She hasn't slept in days, in fact she's barely eaten, and her body is succumbing to the stress. Starved for sleep, hungry for food, aching for love, she closes her eyes and gives into the fears that have plagued her mind over and over as of late.

She truly is alone.

**B&B**

Until, she realizes, she isn't.

She smells the sweet fragrance of daffodils.

She hears the unmistakable feminine chatter of her best friend.

And she feels familiar calloused fingers tracing gentle patterns across her palm.

She hadn't slept in days, and her body was reluctant to allow her such an easy escape from the rest it had so greatly craved, but her mind was already in overdrive.

She stirs, ever so slightly, taking in a deep, cleansing breath, and suddenly, the sweet smell of her favorite flowers is replaced with sage and cinnamon. And coffee. The lights blind her eyes as she blinks them into clarity, and, suddenly, all she sees is a deep chocolate brown. He's nose to nose with her, his breath mingling with hers, and she can barely knit her eyebrows together before his mouth is on hers, his lips gently coaxing hers into an intimate rhythm.

They've only done this a few times, she thinks, three times to be exact, but the way he's moving his mouth against hers is with practiced ease. He pulls back, but keeps their foreheads touching, allowing her room to breathe while refusing to break contact with her. He smiles down at her, and she feels warm, and loved, and totally confused.

She pulls her head back then, pressing her neck into the pillow, but he continues to stare down at her as if nothing has changed, as if they have never changed.

"_Ohhh, Sweetie," _Angela giggles, and Brennan turns to see both her and Hodgins sitting to her right. Suddenly there's movement in her periphery, and she sees Cam escorting a man through the doorway.

She takes in her surroundings, realizing she's in a stark white room, hooked to various machines that seem to be documenting her body's vital signs, and she understands she's in a hospital bed. The man with Cam steps forward, and suddenly he isn't a stranger.

"_Temperance, you look great," _he begins, and his words are strangely familiar. Almost immediately she's assaulted with a memory. She's dancing with Paul, and he's in a tuxedo, and she's smiling and congratulating him on his marriage to Cam, careful to avoid her own views on the subject. Just as instantly, the memory fades, and she's once again staring into his compassionate eyes.

"_I'm happy you're back with us! You gave us quite a scare this morning.." _and suddenly the room is filled with agreements, "_I just want to let you know that the baby is fine, but you'll need to remain on bed rest for another few days. Booth explained, in no uncertain terms, that you would be spending those days at home, under the direct care of the FBI, and I feel threatened," _he smiled at Booth, "_to agree"_.

She lifts the blankets to stare at the ever so slight bump growing beneath her stomach, and tears form in her eyes. She feels Booth caress her cheek, and then she watches him reach down to lightly rub her burgeoning belly. She spots a mark on his perpetually tan skin, grabbing his hand and bringing it to eye level. On his left ring finger, just below the knuckle, he has a tattoo, a sternum, and suddenly, she remembers.

She's crying then, and he's kissing her, and Paul is encouraging her friends to leave the room so that she can rest. She feels like she's almost slept their lives away, but Booth is gently stroking her hair and whispering his undying love and how much he'll prove it to her when she wakes up. She slides back into sleep whole and content. And loved.

**B&B**

It's morning, and Angela can't help but laugh as her stomach grumbles for the third time, each gurgle getting progressively louder. She's already eaten two croissants and a banana, _but_, she decides, _if the baby's hungry..._

She enters Brennan's suite and she smiles finding her asleep, a peaceful smile etching her so often stoic features. She decides on grabbing a snack before waking her favorite friend, and adjusts the blanket around Brennan's shoulders, her maternal instinct already kicking into gear.

Angela is brushing off the remaining crumbs of what was once _the best jelly doughnut she has ever eaten_, as she walks through the doorway, finding Brennan still slumbering. The world is awake around her, staff milling around, and she knows that her friend would appreciate being woken up before anyone catches her drooling. Angela is laughing, once again, realizing that only a few minutes before she had been the one drooling over a delicious dessert, and as she's gently shaking Brennan's shoulders, she can't help but wonder how Brennan can possibly hate her fruit cooked.

"_Sweetie,"_ she whispers, "_it's time to wakey wakey..."_

Brennan isn't fighting sleep, just continuing to smile in her dreamlike state, and Angela begins to nudge her gently.

"_C'mon, Sweetie, you're missing the Cabaret,"_ she jokes, continuing to shake her, but Brennan remains blissfully unresponsive.

"_Bren," _she tries again, louder, to no avail. She tries again. And again. And again.

And then she's screaming.

She's surrounded by Hodgins and Cam, countless interns and lab staff, and someone is calling 911 from Brennan's office phone, but the anthropologist does not stir.

Angela is crying into Hodgins's shoulder, Cam is assessing their catatonic comrade, and, all the while, Brennan remains euphorically unaware, her mind allowing her to enjoy what her heart had been denied.

**Reviews, as Sweets might say, are wicked awesome, so pleaseeee let me know what you think!**


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